A Lack of Celebration
by do i need a pen name
Summary: Little Fred Weasley has discovered a problem and, with that famous Weasley stubbornness firmly in place, he is determined to fix it. COMPLETE
**A Lack of Celebration**

Fred Weasley was six years old when he first noticed something wasn't quite right with the way his family did things.

In September every year they always had a huge party to celebrate his birthday. Dad would set off the best fireworks and sneak him pranks from the shop when Mum wasn't looking. And Mum! Mum always made the best birthday cakes that Fred would get to share with Roxie and all of his aunts and uncles and cousins who came over to celebrate with them.

In October they celebrated Mum's birthday. Fred made her very favorite breakfast with his assistant chef Roxie (alright, so maybe Dad helped a little bit too) and then they would bring it to her in bed. And all day Fred and Roxie would be on their best behavior and not pull any pranks because even though she likes pranks just as much as the rest of them, it was Mum's special day and she always said it was the one day a year that there had to be peace. But Fred didn't mind because the day always ended with Dad's special fireworks and the day _after_ Mum's birthday was always filled with pranks and lots of noise and other exciting things that Mum didn't consider incredibly peaceful.

They celebrated Roxie's birthday in July, just a week before Uncle Harry's. Fred liked the day before Roxie's birthday best because it was the last day for a few months that he still got to be a whole year older than his little sister. The birthday cake Mum made for Roxie (almost as good as the cakes she made for Fred's birthday) usually made being the same age as his sister for a couple months again better, though.

In December they celebrated Christmas. And Halloween came in October. And in February Dad always bought 2 bouquets of flowers for Valentine's Day: one for Mum from him and one for Roxie from Freddie. April Fool's Day was one of Fred's favorites because Dad always brought him to the shop and let him pick out an extra special treat (to be used to prank one of his uncles at the next available opportunity). And in June they always celebrated Father's Day (for Dad, the uncles, and Granddad) and Mother's Day was celebrated in March (for Mum, the aunts, and Gran). And it seemed like every other week there was another birthday for an aunt or uncle or cousin to celebrate because Fred had a HUGE family and they really liked their birthday parties, and really, any excuse for a party in general. And...and Fred was pretty sure last year they celebrated the day Gran and Granddad got married even though it happened ages and ages and ages ago, but Freddie couldn't remember what the exact day was when they did that. Hmm...what else? Oh! And Mum said that every Sunday they celebrated being a family which is why they always went to the Burrow for lunch.

But in that whole long list of things Fred could remember celebrating, not once did he remember ever celebrating his dad's birthday. And that didn't make any sense at all to the six-year-old.

Fred Weasley was determined to find an explanation for this problem.

* * *

"Gran?" Fred asked as he sat at the Burrow's kitchen table nibbling on a biscuit while his Grandma Molly finished up the last of her lunch preparations.

He had a very important question to ask her, and he'd made a point of staying inside with her while everyone else enjoyed the nice May day outside. (It was a complete coincidence that it was a very badly kept secret that Molly Weasley always had a sweet or two tucked away somewhere in the kitchen for one of her beloved grandchildren.)

"Yes, Freddie, darling?" Molly replied, looking up from the salad she was tossing.

"Did Dad ever get born?" Fred questioned with a frown so that she would know he was serious. (He didn't have a mirror handy, but he was pretty sure he was making his best Uncle Percy-face.)

"Did...what sort of question is that, Freddie?" Molly replied with a laugh. Fred narrowed his eyes at this. He was being serious, couldn't she tell? What was she laughing for?!

"Of course he was born, dear," Molly continued, "Everyone 'gets' born; if you are alive then you have been born."

"Nuh uh," Fred insisted with a rapid shake of his head. "Sometimes they get dropped off by a funny looking bird—a...a stork! _Sometimes_ mums and dads wish really, really hard for a baby and then a stork comes and drops one off on their doorstep."

"Wherever did you hear something like that?" Molly questioned in bemusement. Fred was not pleased. Couldn't Gran see how serious he was being? He knew just how to convince her, though.

"It was in one of the muggle picture books in Rosie and Hugo's playroom," Fred exclaimed eagerly. Gran would understand that; Aunt Hermione was always saying that books knew everything, after all. "I read it all by myself when Uncle Ron was babysitting us last week."

"Ah," and now Fred could see that Gran understood what he was talking about. "I'm afraid that was just a story, Freddie; it was make believe. Babies are born, they don't get dropped off by a stork. Being born is a very special occasion; that's why we celebrate birthdays."

"Oh..." Fred sighed, his shoulders sagging in momentary defeat. Well there went that theory. If storks didn't drop off babies, then that meant that his dad really did get born one day (ages and ages ago, probably), so he really _must_ have a birthday.

"It was very clever of you to read that book all by yourself, though," Molly complimented brightly. "You're a very clever boy, Freddie."

Fred's eyes lit up immediately. "Do clever boys get a second biscuit?"

Molly grinned at him conspiratorially as she went to fetch another one from the tin. "It'll be our little secret."

* * *

"Mum?"

It was several days since Fred's enlightening (if somewhat disappointing—only somewhat though, there were biscuits involved after all!) conversation with Gran. He'd had to rethink his strategy somewhat, but then he realized there was an obvious solution to his problem: he could just ask Mum! After all, Mum knew everything.

Mum looked up from the papers spread out in front of her and across the kitchen table to Fred. They were both working from home today (as Fred had explained importantly to Dad that morning when he left to bring Roxie to a play date with the Potter cousins for the day before he went to work, so _no_ Fred couldn't go with, too); Mum was going over her Quidditch plays and Fred was planning an excellent new prank that Dad could sell at the shop.

"Yes, love?" His mum asked.

"How do babies get born?" Fred questioned. He decided not to use his Uncle Percy face this time, because it clearly hadn't worked with Gran. Mum would still know this was important though, because Mum knew everything.

"How-what?" Mum spluttered, her eyes widening in surprise.

"How do babies get born?" Freddie repeated, because maybe Mum just hadn't heard him clearly the first time. Then, when she still looked at him with wide eyes and didn't appear to be about to say anything at all, he continued, "Gran says that babies don't get dropped off by a stork even though Rosie and Hugo's nursery rhyme book said they do, and Aunt Hermione always says that books know everything. But Gran said that was wrong and all babies get born, but she never told me how, but I thought you must know because I reckon you know just about everything. Well, everything but that Dad was the one who broke that lamp last week, not the cat and he bribed me 'n Roxie not to say anything because he thought it was ugly and he wanted to get rid of it and he knew that if you knew he broke it then you would just use magic to fix it permanently so that he could never break it again. But now I guess you do know that since I just told you, so now you really do know everything."

And then Fred simply sat there patiently waiting for his mum to answer his question. Hmm...her eyes were even wider now than they were before.

"First of all," Mum finally said (and Fred was very proud of himself for being patient for once and actually waiting for an answer...he might have to try this patience thing some more some other time), "I think I'm going to have to have a few words about that lamp with your father when he gets home from work today."

Ooh, Fred couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for Dad; that was Mum's scary in-trouble voice. Dad was probably going to get a _long_ timeout for this.

"But Freddie," Mum continued (not in her in-trouble voice anymore, thank Merlin), "Why do you want to know so much about babies?"

Now Fred bit his lip instead of answering his mum's question. He didn't think she would ask any questions. And he couldn't tell her his reason; that would be a disaster! He needed to figure out all about birthdays so that he could then figure out when his dad's birthday was. Because ever since Gran told him that everyone got born (which meant everyone _must_ have a birthday), Fred had slowly come to the realization why they must not celebrate Dad's: he'd forgotten when it was.

And not just that, _everyone_ must have forgotten when Dad's birthday was because no one had ever done so much as mention it in passing. So obviously he couldn't tell Mum the real reason why he wanted to know, because then she was going to get embarrassed that she forgot Dad's birthday and Fred really didn't want to make Mum feel bad.

"Freddie?" Mum prompted. "There must be a reason you want to know. You don't...you don't want us to have another baby, do you?"

"No!" Fred exclaimed immediately. "We already have Roxie! We don't need _another_ baby!"

" _Fred_..." Uh-oh...that wasn't mum's in-trouble voice but it was definitely close.

"I mean," Fred hurried, "I already have to share all my toys with Roxie and if we get another baby then I'll have to share my toys with that baby, too, and there won't be any for Roxie to play with and then she'll be sad and I don't want her to be sad."

"Oh Freddie..." And even though she sighed, Fred was pretty sure his mum was actually trying not to laugh now. Grown-ups were weird sometimes. "I really do pity your professors when you get to Hogwarts."

Luckily for Fred, at just that moment an owl arrived and started tapping impatiently on the kitchen window. Fred nearly sighed in relief when the letter it was carrying took Mum's attention away from him; hopefully she would stay distracted long enough for him to think up a good excuse for his questions.

* * *

Mum didn't put Dad in time out when he got home later that day. Even worse: she sent him to go clean the basement.

Fred crouched on the stairs, staring through the gaps in the railing as he watched his dad at work. George Weasley stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by dusty boxes filled with old toys and holiday decorations and defective merchandise and who knew what else. He whistled cheerfully to himself as he held his wand out in front of him, boxes zooming all around the room and organizing themselves into neat piles. Fred was quite impressed that none of the boxes had run into each other yet.

"Oi! Are you sitting there enjoying watching your old man work or are you just gathering more evidence to tattle to mum?"

Fred jumped. Dad wasn't even facing him; Fred hadn't thought his dad even knew he was sitting there watching.

"How'd you know I was here?" Fred demanded incredulously, quickly making his way down the rest of the stairs so that he could go stand beside his father (and ducking several times along the way to avoid getting knocked over by flying boxes).

"Would you believe me if I told you I could hear you?" Dad questioned, tapping the side of his head that was missing an ear.

"No," Fred said shortly, unimpressed. His dad really needed to work on some better ear-rated material.

"In that case, I heard you but it's a top-secret-dads-only thing, so I can't say anything more," Dad grinned down at him.

"If you say so," Fred replied doubtfully.

"So Freddie," Dad continued, somehow keeping one eye on his organizing while the rest of his attention was clearly focused on Fred. "Mum tells me you were asking some pretty tough questions today."

"I didn't think they were _tough_ questions," Fred stated. Then he frowned, "Mum didn't really answer my question anyway."

Then he looked thoughtfully at his dad.

"You know almost as much as Mum does, right, Dad?"

"Are you trying to tell me you think Mum is smarter than me?" Dad demanded in outrage, but Fred was pretty sure he was trying pretty hard not to smile. His parents really needed to stop thinking they could hide these sorts of things from Fred.

"Well, she's _Mum_ ," Fred replied, because that was really all the explanation needed.

"Hmm...you do make a compelling argument, Freddie," Dad sighed. "I suppose she probably is smarter than me. But only a little bit. Does this mean I get to have the baby talk with you? I really wasn't planning on this for at least a few more years, but I guess I can improvise."

Fred wasn't quite sure what his dad was talking about (what was a 'baby talk'?), but that didn't really matter because since his talk with Mum this afternoon, Fred had been thinking hard and ended up refining his plan. Now was as good a time as any to get started with his new approach.

"Dad," Fred began seriously, "I don't really care much about babies anymore. But, I do want to know about something else. I was wondering if there is a spell that can change your memory?"

"Sure," Dad said immediately, and in Fred's opinion he seemed just a little too eager to answer this question...oh well, maybe he didn't like talking about babies (not that Fred could blame him—babies were gross; Baby Hugo was a perfect example). "You can charm someone's memory to make them forget something, or you can change it so much that they have different memories of things that never really happened."

Fred didn't care about that last bit, though. He was entirely focused on the first example.

"Can you charm a whole _group_ of people to forget the same thing?" Fred asked eagerly.

"I'd imagine so, yeah," Dad stated. Then he gave Fred a suspicious look, "Trying to hide something from me and Mum, Freddie?"

Fred shook his head rapidly. "I think someone erased the whole families' memory about...something." Then, because he knew his dad was bound to ask more questions, he continued, "Can memory charms be reversed?"

"It's tricky, but not completely impossible," Dad admitted. "Honestly, Aunt Hermione is really the expert in memory charms."

Fred's immediate thought was that maybe, if she was such an expert, _Aunt Hermione_ was the one who erased everyone's memory about his dad's birthday. But even Fred knew that was silly; Aunt Hermione wouldn't do something like that, she was too nice.

"So," Dad continued slyly, "What sort of memory are we talking about here? Because if it's not something you're trying to hide from me and mum, then I'm all ears."

"I can't tell you," Fred said immediately, rolling his eyes at one of his dad's favorite lines. "It's a secret. But...but do think Aunt Hermione will help me? Can I ask her?"

"I'm sure Aunt Hermione would be more than happy to help you out with whatever you need," Dad told him. "When I'm done down here the two of us can sit down and write her a letter, if you'd like."

* * *

Several days later, Fred felt very important as he accompanied his mum through the Ministry of Magic. He was wearing his very best robes (purchased for Aunt Luna's recent wedding to Uncle Rolf who was almost as cool as Uncle Charlie) and holding onto Mum's hand as they walked side-by-side (Dad insisted it was the gentlemanly thing to do, so who was Fred to argue). This was his very first time visiting the Ministry and he couldn't wait to brag— _ahem_ , _tell_ Roxie all about it later when he got home.

Mum had some business to take care of in the Department of Magical Games and Sports today, but before she took care of that she was dropping him off for the very important meeting Fred had scheduled for this morning.

"Alright, here we are," Mum announced as they stopped outside of a closed door. Fred wasn't entirely positive—names were still kind of tricky for him—but he was _pretty sure_ it was Aunt Hermione's name on the shiny gold square on the door. "I'll come back to pick you up once I'm done."

"Okay, Mum," Fred agreed easily, turning to the door and rapping his knuckles against the wood three times.

The door opened almost immediately to reveal Aunt Hermione standing there with a smile on her face.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, you're right on time for our appointment," she greeted him.

"Hello, Aunt Hermione," Fred replied politely, holding out his hand for her to shake, rather than greeting her with the customary Weasley hug (this was a business meeting, after all, and Fred never saw Dad hug any of his customers at the shop).

Hermione's smile widened as she shook Fred's hand, then gestured for him to enter her office, closing the door again once he was inside. Mum had clearly already made her exit without another word, which was good because Fred couldn't have her eavesdropping on this incredibly important conversation.

While Aunt Hermione took the seat behind her desk (Fred couldn't help but notice it was _much_ neater than the desk Uncle Ron had in the office at the shop), Fred climbed into one of the chairs in front of it (Uncle Ron and Dad definitely won this one—the couch they had in the office was definitely much comfier than Aunt Hermione's chairs). Once they were both seated, Aunt Hermione got right down to business.

"So, Freddie," she said, "what can I do for you today?"

"I wanted to ask you some questions about something because Dad says you're the best person to ask because you're an expert," Fred said in a rush.

"Did he now? Well what kind of questions do you have for me, Freddie?"

"I want to know about memory charms," Fred stated in excitement.

"Memory charms..." Hermione repeated slowly. She was still smiling, but Fred thought it wasn't an entirely happy smile anymore. Oh well.

He nodded rapidly. "See, I think...well it's kind of complicated, actually...but I really need to know about memory charms. Dad says it's possible to do a charm that can make people forget things?"

Hermione sighed. "Well, I suppose I actually am the expert in this...yes, Freddie, what your dad told you is true. It's possible to charm people to forget things."

"Anything?" Fred questioned.

"Anything at all," Hermione replied. "It can be a specific memory of one thing or large periods of time...or even of specific people ever existing."

Fred was sure of it now. Aunt Hermione definitely seemed kind of sad now. He would worry about that later though, because he was definitely getting somewhere with his memory charm theory now.

"But can it be reversed?" Fred asked eagerly. "Can you use magic to make someone remember something that someone else made them forget?"

Finally, Aunt Hermione smiled again. "Oh yes, you most definitely can." She looked at him thoughtfully now. "Why did you want to know about memory charms, Freddie? It's rather advanced magic and you're a very bright boy, but I'm afraid it's not something you'll really learn until N.E.W.T.-level Charms at Hogwarts."

"I won't?"

And all of a sudden, Fred's elation disappeared. This was a _disaster_. He wasn't going to Hogwarts for ages still, and it wouldn't be for years after _that_ until he was old enough for N.E.W.T.'s (honestly, he wasn't sure just _how_ old you had to be to take N.E.W. T.'s, but Teddy hadn't even taken his yet, and he was positively _ancient_ ). He couldn't let Dad go that many years without yet another birthday celebration. That would be all sorts of awful.

"Freddie?" Hermione prompted.

And that was when Fred broke down. The whole story came spilling out in between sniffles that he tried his very best to hold back, but couldn't quite manage entirely. How Gran told him all babies were born so everyone had a birthday. And how that meant they hadn't been celebrating Dad's birthday for all of these years but no one ever mentioned anything about it. And how Fred figured that must mean someone had charmed the whole family to forget about Dad's birthday because what other explanation was there for not doing something fun like celebrating Dad's birthday?

By the end of his explanation, Fred was pleased to see through his tear-filled eyes that Aunt Hermione also looked upset now. Well good. Because now he'd spilled the beans and clued someone else in on his discovery, that meant Fred had someone on his side to fix this horrible problem. Huh...maybe he should have come clean about the reason for all of his questions from the very beginning...

"Do you know what, Freddie?" Hermione said once Fred got everything out, "I'm very glad you came to talk to me today. As a matter of fact, I know just how to fix this."

"Because you're an expert at memory charms?" Fred asked, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his eyes (on that note, he was now convinced Mum was _definitely_ on to something when she always insisted he carry one around, which he'd only agreed to today because carrying a handkerchief was a very grown-up thing to do).

"Something like that," Hermione smiled softly at him. "So, what do you say? Do you trust me to take care of things for you?"

Fred nodded quickly. Aunt Hermione was very smart; he definitely trusted her to fix things, it was why he came to her in the first place, after all.

"Perfect," Hermione smiled wider now. "In the meantime, what do you say we head up to the cafeteria before your mum comes back? I think some ice cream is the perfect way to end our business meeting."

Fred smiled widely now too, his tears mostly wiped away. "Before lunch? Roxie's going to be so jealous when I tell her!"

* * *

Fred did not have to wait long at all for Aunt Hermione to follow through on her promise. However, it was not at all in the way he expected...

"Hey, mate, are you busy?"

At the sound of his dad's voice, Fred looked up from where he was sprawled across his bed flipping through the dragon book Uncle Charlie had sent him and Roxie the month before—he didn't know all of the words, but the pictures were neat. His dad was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He was still dressed in his brightly-colored WWW robes (if Fred was being completely honest, he rather preferred the magenta robes to the ones he'd worn earlier to meet with Aunt Hermione, no matter how smart everyone said the dress robes made him look) so Fred figured that meant he must have just gotten home from the shop. In Fred's opinion, Dad looked rather tired and this was definitely much later than he usually got home, so it must have been a busy day at the shop.

"Mum said I only had a little bit of time before dinner," Fred replied, "Is it time now?"

"Nah," Dad replied, pushing away from the door frame and walking across the room to take a seat at the foot of Fred's bed. "She…er…well, I may have distracted Mum a bit and, long story short, dinner's currently in the bin. Mum and Roxie just nipped out to pick up some fish and chips instead, so we don't all starve tonight."

Fred's eyes widened in delight. "Fish and chips? That's loads better than what Mum was cooking."

"Vegetables?" Dad guessed.

"Vegetables," Fred confirmed, wrinkling his nose with a disgusted shake of his head.

When he looked back at his dad, though, Fred was confused by what he saw. Dad was smiling, but…well, he didn't look very happy, and it was different than just being tired. And he wasn't looking at Fred, either. Rather, his gaze was fixed on a pattern he seemed to be tracing into the quilt across Fred's bed.

"Listen, mate," Dad said suddenly, looking up at Fred again, "There's something I'd like to talk to you about. I reckon you're probably about old enough to understand now…mostly."

Fred straightened up automatically. He w _as_ very grown up; everyone at the Ministry complimented him on that today. Fred was beyond pleased that Dad thought he was grown up, too.

"Aunt Hermione stopped by the shop this afternoon," Dad continued, and Fred froze. Had Aunt Hermione reversed the memory spell already? That was very quick work; much quicker than he'd expected. He thought it would have taken a _very_ long time to sort out—a whole week, at least. But only a few hours? That was brilliant!

"Freddie," Dad said slowly, and Fred made sure to pay attention—that was his dad's serious voice; whatever he was about to say was going to be very important. "Did you know you're named after someone?"

Fred nodded eagerly. "Uncle Fred," he replied promptly, not sure how this related to Aunt Hermione stopping by but excited nonetheless.

Dad didn't talk about Uncle Fred very often—he'd mention him every so often or tell a small story, usually when he was talking about the shop, but he didn't tell nearly as many funny stories about him as Fred's aunts and uncles did. Actually, it was from his aunts and uncles that Fred even learned he'd been named after Uncle Fred, Mum then confirmed it for him when he asked. Anyway, if Dad was going to start talking about Uncle Fred right now, then this was a rare treat—the aunts and uncles might have lots of stories that were all hilarious, but Dad's were somehow all the best, no matter how short or long they were.

"Well Aunt Hermione got me thinking about Uncle Fred today," Dad continued. "And I suppose, well, it made me realize that I don't talk about him enough to you or Roxie or even to Mum. But I know that my brothers and sister and Gran and Granddad have all told you stories, so I'm glad you've had that. And I think…I think I'm going to try my best to talk about him more, now. And I guess the best place to start…well, I'm sure you know this already—you've seen plenty of pictures, after all—but Uncle Fred and I are twins…were twins."

"'Cept for your ear!" Fred chimed in. "On account of you being holier than him."

His dad smiled, but Fred couldn't help but think he didn't look quite as happy as he normally did.

"That's very true," Dad agreed. "Here's the thing, though, Hermione got me thinking about something important: did you know that twins share a birthday?"

Fred did _not_ know that, as a matter of fact. And he wasn't sure he quite liked the idea of sharing a birthday with someone… "I think I'm very happy I don't share my birthday with Roxie. That would make use the same age _all_ the time then, wouldn't it?"

Dad made a funny sort of face and began blinking rapidly. "Each year you had a birthday, you would turn the same age, yes."

"I think I'm glad Roxie isn't my twin," Fred said thoughtfully. "I like being the big brother."

"You're a very good big brother," Dad agreed, "Most of the time."

And Fred understood what Dad wasn't saying there, because Fred knew that sometimes he and Roxie fought and weren't very good siblings to each other. But he still always loved her and she would always be his favorite sister.

"The thing about Uncle Fred and I, though," Dad said now, "Is that, growing up, we didn't know what it was like to _not_ be twins. We were always together and we always had each other…for a while, we didn't understand how everyone else got by _without_ a twin. But then…well, then Uncle Fred…he passed away. And after spending my whole life sharing everything with him, I had to learn how to just be George all by myself."

And now Fred finally figured out why Dad had had that funny look on his face this whole time. It was because he was trying not to cry. Fred knew what that felt like, and it was not fun at all.

A few tears had fallen from Dad's eyes, and he quickly brushed them away.

"It was really hard for a while," Dad continued. "But I had Mum when things got too sad, and Uncle Percy helped me a lot, especially with the shop. Having them, and everyone else, too, helped a lot."

"Uncle Percy helped you with the _shop_?" Fred couldn't help but interrupt incredulously. "Uncle _Percy_?"

"He did," Dad confirmed with a watery laugh. "He was even pretty good at it."

"Uncle Percy…" Fred sighed. "Helping with the shop…"

"He got offered a new job with the Ministry eventually, though, so he couldn't help with the shop very much anymore," Dad said. "It was okay, though, because the Ministry needed even more help than I did, and Uncle Percy is very good at helping people out when they need it."

"And then you got Uncle Ron to help you out," Fred reminded him, "So everything was alright."

"Eventually, yes," Dad replied. "By the time Uncle Ron started working at the shop, though, I pretty much had everything under control. There's one thing, though, that I…well, that I haven't been able to do since Uncle Fred-since he died. Fred and I…we shared everything…and I haven't wanted to celebrate our birthday without him."

Fred froze. But that meant…

"Aunt Hermione told me what you came to talk to her about today," Dad told him. "And I think it was very clever of you to come up with that. I almost wish it was true—that everyone simply forgot I have a birthday. The truth is, it just makes me very sad to have a day just for me when it used to be for Fred _and_ George; that's why we don't celebrate. But I am _so_ proud of you for seeing a problem and doing your very best to fix it."

Fred honestly didn't know what to say to that, so he simply sat there, deep in thought, while his dad pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping at his eyes.

He thought he understood what his dad was saying. He would be very sad if he didn't have Roxie anymore, and he couldn't imagine having a fun and happy celebration on her birthday without her there for it. But…but Dad was still here, even if Uncle Fred wasn't…and it just didn't seem fair to Fred that Dad didn't get a special day. Because didn't Gran always say that everyone deserved their own special day for everyone to celebrate that they were here?

Fred was all set to tell his dad just that when he heard the familiar sound of the front door being opened, followed shortly by Roxie hollering, " _We're home!_ " which was then followed by Mum's more than familiar reminder, " _Indoor_ voice, Roxanne."

"Perfect timing," Dad said with a smile, but Fred was dismayed to see that it still wasn't his dad's usual happy smile. But again, before Fred could voice any of his concerns, he was cut off before he could begin, this time by his dad reaching across the bed to wrap Fred up in a tight hug.

"I really am very proud of you," his dad told him softly, before giving Fred one last tight squeeze and then releasing him to stand up. He was across the room and halfway out the door before he paused briefly to turn around and say, "Wash up for supper." And then he was gone.

Fred was left behind, alone in his room, nothing short of completely dismayed. Yes, he finally had the whole situation figured out, but in his opinion nothing had been fixed at all. He still had work to do, but he had no idea where to even begin. Only minutes before he'd thought Aunt Hermione had come through for him and everything was fixed, but clearly that wasn't true. Good grief, he still didn't even know when his dad's birthday even was!

Throughout dinner, Fred didn't say much, instead letting Roxie tell Mum and Dad all about the day she'd had playing with Lucy and Molly at the Burrow. He was too distracted thinking about Dad's birthday situation to even bother telling Roxie that Aunt Hermione let him have a whole ice cream by himself _before_ lunch while she had to share the biscuits Gran made with their two cousins. Everything was just a disaster right now, in Fred's opinion. Fred didn't even think—wait just a minute!

Roxie was still in the middle of her story when a sudden thought simply _appeared_ in Fred's head. He just had the perfect idea for how his dad could still have a special day to celebrate…

* * *

In Fred Weasley's opinion, birthdays were the best out of all of the celebrations that happened throughout the year. On your birthday, you got _presents_. April Fools Day was a close second—because a day devoted entirely to pranking? Yes, please. Oh, and alright, Halloween—a day that involved _lots_ of candy—was definitely tied for third with Christmas—a day with lots of sweets _and_ presents. But Fred, who loved every single member of his family dearly but sometimes thought it was a miracle when they were all able to cram into one building, thought there was definitely something special about a day devoted entirely to just you; a day where just one person got to be the center of attention.

Everyone deserved a special day to be the center of attention.

And today was Fred's special day. Today he was seven years old. That was nearly old enough to go to Hogwarts.

"Time for cake!"

"Time out!" Fred hollered immediately. But clearly all of his cousins had heard their Aunt Angelina's announcement, because no one argued at all about Fred's abrupt halt to their game of Quidditch. It barely took any time at all for everyone to get back on the ground and start heading towards the table where Fred's birthday cake was placed.

Truth be told, Fred was rather nervous for this part. He liked being the center of attention on his birthday, but he'd never given a speech before. And no one was even expecting him to give a speech—a surprise speech was definitely something to be nervous about; honestly, he'd only even gotten the idea for a speech in the first place when they celebrated Uncle Harry's thirtieth birthday a few weeks ago and Uncle Ron and Uncle Charlie yelled "Speech! Speech!" until Uncle Harry finally stood on a chair and thanked everyone for coming to celebrate with him. But Fred had quickly realized it was the perfect way to enact his plan for today.

So he was going to give a speech. Oh Merlin, was he nervous.

"Come here, Freddie," Mum waved him over to where she was standing beside the cake.

"Can I say something before we do the candles?" Fred asked as soon as he was by her side. "I want to make a speech for my birthday, like Uncle Harry did."

Fred was very familiar with Mum's surprise face from all of the pranks he, Dad, and Roxie liked to pull, and he recognized it easily now.

"Oh, well…er, sure, I don't see why not," Mum said with a shrug. "Shall I get you a chair to stand on so everyone can see you? Or would you like me to charm your voice louder?"

"I think a chair would be a good idea," Fred told her with a nod. "I can be even louder than Roxie can, but I'm definitely not tall yet."

Once Mum had conjured a stool for him and helped him to stand on it, she then got the whole family's attention— _not_ an easy task; Weasley's _loved_ talking and making noise. Fred took a deep, calming breath, before looking out at his family. Almost immediately, he found his dad in the crowd, standing beside Uncle Percy and smiling encouragingly at Fred, even though he knew his dad had no idea what Fred was about to say. Dad was awesome like that.

"Thank you for all coming to celebrate my birthday today," Fred began, because that seemed like an important thing to mention first (and maybe now Mum wouldn't make him write a thousand and one thank-you cards, since he'd clearly thanked everyone in person already). "But I want everyone to know that from now on we're not going to celebrate _my_ birthday every September."

"Does that mean I can return your present, mate?" Uncle Charlie called out.

"No," Fred replied immediately. No presents? What a _horrible_ idea; that was probably why Uncle Charlie couldn't get anyone to marry him. "Because today isn't going to be just _my_ birthday anymore. Dad once told me he doesn't like celebrating a day for _only_ George," Fred explained to everyone. "So from now on, I don't want to celebrate a day for _only_ Fred. I want my birthday to be a celebration for Fred _and_ George. Because if Dad doesn't have someone to share his birthday with anymore, then I can share _mine_ with him. Because everyone deserves a special day."

Fred smiled out at the crowd when he finished speaking. He wasn't surprised to see that most of his cousins looked pretty bored. He didn't blame them; when Uncle Harry made his speech, all Fred was concerned about was getting a big slice of birthday cake. All of the grown-ups, though, seemed to be frozen. None of them were even looking at Fred anymore, they were all looking at his dad instead. Dad, though, was looking at Fred.

Dad had a funny kind of look on his face, and that made Fred nervous again. It had taken him positively _ages_ to figure out how to fix the problem of his dad not having a birthday. And then after that, it had taken even _longer_ for Fred to wait for his birthday to come around again so that he could share it with his dad. He was _very_ proud that he finally figured out a solution to the problem. The only question now was whether or not Dad liked his idea, too.

After a very long time—the cousins were getting _very_ restless—Dad slowly made his way through the crowd of people until he was standing directly in front of Fred (on his stool they were nearly the same height—Fred could get used to being this tall). And then Dad wrapped his arms around Fred in a hug that Gran was sure to be jealous of—or at least, that what's Fred assumed, because he couldn't see anything beyond his dad right now, that's how tightly he was being hugged.

"I think a birthday celebration for Fred _and_ George is a brilliant idea," Dad whispered into Fred's ear. "In fact, it's the best idea _ever_."

"Does that mean we can have cake now?" Fred whispered back, making sure he was talking on Dad's un-holy side. "Because I think the cousins might revolt soon."

"One thing first," Dad replied, and then he relaxed his grip on Fred just a tiny bit so that he could look over his shoulder. "Hey, Angie, is there any more frosting? I don't think the cake is quite finished being decorated, yet."

In what felt like a matter of seconds, Mum had worked her magic—her mum-magic not her magic-magic, and yes, Fred knew there was _definitely_ a difference; mum-magic was _much_ more powerful—and then it was finally, _finally_ time for singing.

Lots of the grown-ups seemed to be crying as they sang 'Happy Birthday,' which Fred thought was silly, quite frankly. _Everyone_ knew birthdays were supposed to be happy—just look at his dad, his smile was even bigger than Fred's right now. But Fred didn't waste much time worrying about silly grown-ups; he had much more important things to focus on right now. Namely, all of the candles he and Dad had to blow out.

And because Fred was seven now and he was very good at reading things all by himself, he didn't even need any help reading the words the candles surrounded on top of the cake.

 _Happy Birthday Fred and George!_

Yes, birthdays were definitely Fred's favorite kind of celebration.


End file.
